


A Weapon of Personal Destruction

by respoftw



Series: Infinity and Beyond [12]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 12:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: You are not teaching my son how to shoot people and that is the end of this discussion





	A Weapon of Personal Destruction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [librarychick_94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarychick_94/gifts).



> Librarychick94 asked for more Dorian. :)

“You are not teaching my son how to shoot people and that is the end of this discussion.” Rodney knew he would have to apologise for the ‘my son’ later but he was too incensed to care right now if he hurt John's feelings. He’d let John take a lot of liberties with Dorian’s safety - cliff diving, surfing, skateboarding, horse riding, never mind starting him with child sized bantos rods when he was only four years old - but there was a line that Rodney wasn't willing to cross. A line that John didn't even seem to be able to see.

“Gun _safety_ ,” John stressed the last word. “That's what I'm talking about. You make it sound like I'm about to arm him with a P-90 and set him loose on our enemies.”

“I'm sorry but what part of my previous answer wasn't in English? You do know what end of discussion means, right? Because, where I'm from, it means that I said no and that's the end of it.”

John was starting to get mad, Rodney could see it in the way his jaw muscle spasmed, his teeth clenching together. _Good_ , he thought; that made two of them.

“So, what? You say no and I don't get any say? Is that how this works now? And here I was thinking we were a partnership; a marriage. I didn't realise I was living in a dictatorship.”

Rodney rolled his eyes over his coffee. John always did have a tendency to get melodramatic when he felt he was in the right.

“Come on, Rodney. You know it makes sense. He's seven years old and he's a McKay through and through. When you were seven you built a damn nuclear bomb. The only thing that stopped you from blowing up your damn suburb was not having access to the right materials. Well, guess what? Dor does. He is surrounded by the military which means he is surrounded by guns and by C-4 and a hundred other things that could hurt him if he doesn't know how to respect them. Get off your damn high horse and - -“

Rodney slammed his cup of coffee down on the table hard enough to crack it in two, coffee slopping everywhere. Rodney didn't pay it any attention, too busy glaring at John.

“Listen to me good and listen to me closely, Colonel. I. Said. No.”

“Jesus Christ, Rodney.” It took a lot to flap the usually unflappable John Sheppard but Rodney had managed it. John ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up more than usual. “Look, I don't understand why you have a problem with this. You _have_ a gun. You use it. I taught you how to look after it and care for it and - -“

“- and I use it to _kill_ people,” Rodney finished. He held up his hand as John looked set to interrupt. “No, let me…that's how it starts; with gun safety. That’s how it started with me. But that's not where it ended.”

Rodney finally seemed to notice the dripping coffee and scraped his chair back, heading for the kitchenette to find a damp cloth. John watched him go with a tight feeling in his chest.

Rodney paused once he'd found the cloth, his hands holding it tightly. His back was facing John which somehow made these next words a bit easier.

“Do you know how many people I've killed?” he asked quietly. “Not Wraith, but people? Because I do, John and it's…it's too many. I don't want that for him.”

There was a moment of silence and when John finally broke it, his voice was suspiciously thick. “I didn't want that for you either. You should never have had to - it kills me that - - And I don't want it for him. Of course I don't. But when I think of the alternative? Every life you've taken has been to save someone else’s, mine, Teyla’s, Ronon’s, your own, and I won't be regretful for that. I won't. And if you think otherwise then I'm sorry but I won't apologise for you still being alive.” Rodney heard John shift, knew him well enough to know that he was about to run. Maybe to _actually_ run, taking his penance in the unforgiving pounding of his feet hitting the solid floors of Atlantis. Maybe to spar, or, ironically, maybe even to the armoury where he could shoot his feelings away. Rodney didn't turn to stop him but John's parting words stopped him cold. “You wanna talk about regrets though? You should talk to General O’Neill.”

Rodney stood at the counter for a long time after John left, so long that the coffee spill had seeped into the hand crafted wood of their kitchen table. Rodney worked at it with the cloth for a long time, until his elbow ached almost as much as his heart did.

Charlie O’Neill had been only a year or so older than Dorian when he had accidentally shot himself with his father’s gun. Rodney had known about the incident for years but it hadn't ever really hit him just how awful it must have been to live through until now. He found himself wondering how Jack had even found a way through that. If it was Dorian…..Jesus, it didn't bear thinking about.

Rodney threw the soiled cloth in the garbage and headed out into the city. He had something he needed to check out before Dorian got back from school.

* * *

 

John had ran for miles, pushing himself hard, and had finally come to the realisation that he needed to make Rodney listen to him around mile 8.

It was getting dark when he limped his way back towards their quarters, winter finally setting in on New Lantea meant it got dark earlier these days.  The door to their home slid open to show John the last thing he’d ever expected to see.

Rodney and Dorian were sat at the kitchen table, Dorian still in his green school uniform, their heads bent over the disassembled pieces of Rodney’s pistol.

“That bit,” Dorian pointed at the breech.

“Good,” Rodney praised him. “And what’s next?”

“Dad!”

Rodney turned around at Dorian’s cry, watching as Dor flung himself at John's legs.

“Dad said you were busy and might miss dinner. We were gonna save you something though, Dad promised. Come and see what Dad’s teaching me!”

John let Dorian pull him over to the kitchen table and push him down on the empty seat.

“He's teaching me all about guns,” Dor grinned at John before turning towards Rodney. “And it's really, really important so I have to pay really close attention, right Dad?”

Rodney’s eyes met John's when he replied, and John could read the apology in the, as clear as day. “Yes. It is.”

John smiled around a lump in his throat, telling Rodney with a look that there was nothing to forgive. “Yeah,” he croaked. “I agree.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm blocked for ideas so I'm actively seeking prompts so send me some? I'm buffycuddlespigs on tumblr.


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